23C - the ordeal and respite!

Public transport is the most outrageous joke in the city. Especially in a place like Chennai, the buses are the most popular mode of travel. The auto rickshaws do not qualify as public transport as they plunder the hapless citizens. These auto drivers are uncouth fellows with a nasty scowl and lofty ideas of service as they charge a ransom for short distances. There are a few exceptions to this rule but the majority of them fall in the above category.

So, to escape the auto atrocities, the buses are the only solace. Now, traveling by bus is not for the weak hearted or the wobbly limbed. Worse still, if there is only one bus which travels around the city - from one end to the other. I take the famous 23C from the Aynavaram depot and I must confess, I have learned what patience is all about.

If you are not aware of the 23C series, here is what you should know. The bus is packed to its brim, regardless of the hour of the day. The only time it is empty is when it is at the depot. So, a wide cross section of the society is at your disposal with their unique expressions - ranging from boredom to anger to open disgust.

Etiquettes are unheard of and the most useful tool which one should be armed with is a wide vocabulary of choicest expletives in the local lingo. These buses seriously defy the law of gravity and how they safely reach the final destination is nothing short of a miracle considering the numerous souls who hang on to anything they could hold on to for dear life.

I am one of those mortals who go through this ordeal every single day. Now, I think I got extremely lucky. After a few days of silent observation, I spotted her near the window seat furiously talking on the phone. What caught my attention was that Ra (that's what I'd call her) was speaking in Urdu and in an accent which would not be qualified as poetic.

I must confess that I was eavesdropping on her conversation. This is quite normal considering the fact that I had 45 minutes to kill and I desperately needed a diversion from acknowledging the fact that my hands were aching from hanging on the overhead bars to stay upright. We got off at the same stop and we mutually acknowledged each other with a nod.

A few days later, we chanced to be in the same bus but this time, sitting next to each other. With nothing else to do but speak, we started rattling off in Urdu. She was two years younger than I and worked just a couple of blocks away from my work place. Ra called me 'didi' and I guess that sealed the pact for us.

We travel together to work and when our schedules permit, we return at the same time. Ra is my source of unlimited entertainment - slapstick humour at it's best with a tinge of innocence. I look forward to traveling by bus because I know she would be there and the moment I speak to her, I feel light and happy. She is the sort of younger sister who I longed to have. We share all aspects of our lives despite being like chalk and cheese.

There were times when we'd waited for two hours for a bus but we never realized time fly by. The moment we see each other, time is no longer a burden and the long, tedious commute by bus is no more a chore. I don't know what I am to her but in a short time, she has become an indispensable companion to me.